


gimme more but it's not enough

by nevershootamockingbird



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Fisting, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, PWP, this is so filthy, with a side of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 09:57:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16972446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevershootamockingbird/pseuds/nevershootamockingbird
Summary: He doesn't know if he's ever been more turned on in his fucking life.He's also reaching his goddamned breaking point, and Caleb fucking knows it.





	gimme more but it's not enough

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this sure happened!
> 
> No spoilers! You don't need to be caught up on the show to read this. One of my new friends through the show made a tweet about how Caleb has perfect hands for fisting and uhhh guess who just couldn't get that out of her head! 
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this, I hope you like reading it!

Caleb is three fingers deep and Fjord thinks he might crawl out of his skin if they keep going this slow. It feels like Caleb's been opening him up for hours, fucking him steadily with his fingers, skimming his other hand over Fjord's cock, his stomach, up his chest to pinch at his nipples, and he doesn't know if he's ever been more turned on in his fucking life. 

He's also reaching his goddamned breaking point, and Caleb fucking knows it. 

“Cay, will you--  _ fuck _ ,” he hisses, tipping his head back against the pillow as the other man rubs his knuckles firmly over the length of his cock, spreading his other fingers wide inside him as he draws them out before twisting them back in. Fjord pants up at the ceiling, tries to remember his train of thought as Caleb hums low, fingers crooking to brush against his prostate before slowly withdrawing again.

"Did you want something?" And Fjord can hear the damn smile in his words, the bastard. He pushes up onto an elbow, licking his lips as he catches Caleb's gaze.

If he's a little distracted by the way his husband’s eyes have gone nearly black, the way his cheeks are flushed and his lower lip is pulled between his teeth, well. That can be forgiven.

Another curl of Caleb’s fingers, knuckle deep, brushing over his prostate, and Fjord groans low, eyes fluttering as his his cock jerks against his stomach, precome dribbling out against his skin. Caleb inhales sharply, and Fjord forces himself to focus, meeting his partner's gaze again as he demands, "Give me another fuckin’ finger."

"Bossy," Caleb remarks, like his voice doesn't go breathy around the word, like he isn't already pulling his fingers out and pressing back in with a fourth, down where Fjord is stretched out soft and dripping with oil. The half orc drops his head forward, rocking his hips with an appreciative moan; he feels Caleb press a kiss to his bent knee, beard scratching gently against his skin, and Fjord reaches out automatically, threads fingers through the wizard's hair as he looks back down his body. 

Caleb's already looking at him, mouth parted slightly, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips as Fjord meets his gaze. He begins to thrust his fingers slowly, drawing them nearly all the way out before pressing them back in, knuckle deep, and it's so fucking good, he's so full, but it's still not enough. 

Not when he knows he can take more, not with that almost reverent look on his partner's face. 

"Give me another." The words are out of his mouth before he even realizes it, but Caleb just turns his head to press another kiss to Fjord's knee, shuddering gently when he reflexively tightens his grip on the human's hair. 

"You're sure?" He asks, stilling his hand, and Fjord tugs gently at his hair, just to watch the way his eyes flutter, the way his cock jerks against his stomach, hard and flushed.

His own cock is still drooling against his stomach, and he wants so fiercely it's all he can do not to reach down and finish this himself. 

"I'm positive, darlin'. Please," he adds on, voice a low rumble, and Caleb nods immediately, drawing his fingers out and smoothing his free hand over Fjord's inner thigh.

"Of course, liebling." He withdraws his fingers slowly, and Fjord has to bite back a whine, clenches around nothing. Caleb reaches to the side for the bottle of oil, slicking more over his fingers, and gods, Fjord can feel it already leaking down his crack, staining the sheets to high hell and back; he appreciates his husband's thoroughness, but his patience can only last so long and really, he thinks, this might be a little overboard. Caleb looks up to meet his gaze as he drops the bottle, and Fjord's breath catches in his throat, the fire in his gut burning brighter at the intensity he finds there. "Deep breath, ja?"

He means to say something, beg maybe, but the words die on his tongue as he feels Caleb begin to press his slender fingers back in. The stretch is familiar, at first, but then-- fucking hells, then there's his thumb folded in against his palm, a brief pause at the blunt pressure of his knuckles, and Fjord can hardly breathe as Caleb keeps going, pushing deeper, stretching him wider than before, until--

"Oh hell,  _ Caleb _ ," he says weakly, letting go of Caleb's hair and falling back against the bed, staring unseeing up towards the ceiling. He's fuller than he's been in a damn long time, feels stretched thin, like the slightest touch will set him off, and god, he isn't ready for this to stop. Caleb holds his hand-- his entire fucking hand, inside of Fjord's ass, gods above-- still, and Fjord lets out a broken whine as he tries to clench down, hears his husband let out a broken curse in his native tongue. "I'm, fuck, I'm good, jus' give me a minute."

"Take all the time you need," Caleb says in a rush, setting his free hand at Fjord's hip, and he's trembling faintly, Fjord vaguely realizes; he's still too focused on trying to get his ragged breathing under control, on trying not to squirm and buck down, on digging his claws into the bed and being grateful that it's an old set of sheets when he feels material rip under his hands. There's a low noise from the man between his legs, and Caleb sounds as breathless as Fjord feels when he says hoarsely, “Look at you, you're incredible.”

Fjord manages half a laugh, but it sets his lungs to moving almost regularly again, and he latches onto that, focuses on the in and out, in and out, until the desire that had coiled so tightly at the base of his spine has unraveled, spreading back across his body like a blanket. He relaxes, and Caleb exhales unsteadily, squeezing his hip tightly. Fjord rocks his hips down once, moaning loudly at the sensation; he’s quick now to look down at Caleb, barely recognizes his own voice as he demands, “Move.”

“Anything you want,” Caleb says, an offering, a prayer, and Fjord would respond in kind but he loses all words as the slender fingers inside of him slowly begin to curl together, until they’ve formed a fist, and gods, this is everything he wanted. The half orc lets out a sob as he drops his head back against the pillow, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes, and he tries to wave off Caleb’s hesitation. 

“Please, just fuck me,  _ Cay _ ,” and Caleb doesn’t question him, trusts him implicitly, and Fjord sobs again as he feels the fist move, barely thrusting in further before pulling back, and it’s so goddamn much, the pressure insistent, it’s so  _ good _ . He’s unraveling fast, nerves starting to spark and fray, and Fjord wouldn’t stop it if he could, Caleb’s fist pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

Caleb wraps his free hand around the base of Fjord's cock, just shy of too tight, and curves over to lap at the head, the tips of his hair brushing along Fjord's stomach. He pants damply as he stares down at his husband, reaching out with a trembling hand to slide fingers through Caleb's hair, gathering it away from his face as he continues to suckle gently at the head of his cock, tongue dipping in briefly against his slit. Combined with the heady stretch and pressure of his fist-- his fist, his whole damn fist, gods-- fucking into him slowly, Fjord is back on the brink in no time, teetering on the edge, his orgasm building hot in his belly. 

A dangerous flash of blue eyes, and then Caleb begins to take more of his cock into his mouth, lower, lower, wet heat and gentle suction, and Fjord is shaking, caught between the two sensations, nerves alight with pleasure so bright he almost loses his senses. 

“Darlin’, oh, fuck, I’m close,” he gasps out, and Caleb peers up at him through his lashes, humming as he draws off, lips swollen and slick with a mess of spit and precome. He begins to stroke Fjord’s cock then, tight and slow, presses his fist that much deeper, and Fjord whines high, is almost there, can only let out a ragged, “ _ Please _ ,” as he tightens his hand in Caleb’s hair. 

“I have you, Fjord. Let go,” Caleb murmurs, low and warm, and Fjord can do nothing but comply, shouting as he spills over Caleb’s hand, along his own chest and stomach. Waves of pleasure crash over him, dragging him down, and just as he thinks they’ve begun to recede Caleb twists his fist just so, and he lets out a broken moan as he comes again, tears spilling down his temples as Caleb draws it out, milking him until he is dry, covered in sticky ropes and puddles of his own come. 

He loses a little time like that, floating in a blissed out haze, feeling not quite attached to his body.

Fjord thinks, a little deliriously as he settles back into himself, that he may never be able to move again. Caleb is murmuring low, broken praise, and when Fjord finds the energy to lift his head his husband is already looking at him, eyes wide and awed. He still feels a little hazy as he murmurs, voice hoarse, "You can take it out. Slow, please."

"Of course, Fjord," Caleb says, voice sweet like syrup, and Fjord sighs contentedly as he presses his free hand to Fjord's hip, squeezing gently, fingers sinking into the soft skin there. "Tell me if you need me to stop."

He hums his assent, reaching down to cover Caleb's hand with his own, and then there's a shift, Caleb carefully uncurling his fingers, tucking his thumb back against his palm as he slowly withdraws his hand. He grunts as Caleb’s fingers slide free, flushing as he feels oil begin to leak back out of his open hole. Fjord reaches a hand up to scrub a hand through his hair, moaning quietly at the pleasant ache in his ass.

Caleb crawls up over him, knees bracketing his broad waist and hands braced just above his shoulders, and Fjord has just enough time to think that it’s a sight he’ll never be tired of before his husband ducks down to brush their lips together. “How are you feeling?”

“Fuckin’ spectacular,” he sighs out, tilting his head just enough to kiss Caleb sweetly, humming contently. He nudges their noses together, keeping his voice low as he asks, “You like the show?”

There’s a sharp inhale above him, Caleb’s eyelashes smudging against his cheek as he shuts his eyes briefly. They are blazing when he opens them again, wild, his voice rough as he murmurs, “Schatz, I would have kept that up longer if possible.”

“Makes two of us.” Fjord feels a slow smile unfurl across his face at his husband’s low cursing, and he nudges their mouths together again, nipping gently at Caleb’s lower lip. “What do you want, Cay?”

“Anything,” comes the breathless reply, a huff of a laugh escaping his lips as Caleb draws back a little, shaking his head. He sounds wrecked as he rambles on, “Anything, that was, you, you were stunning, Fjord. I don’t care, whatever, I--”

"Come on me," he slurs out, reaching up to drag fingers through the thatch of hair on Caleb's chest, licking his lips as he meets his husband's wild gaze. Fjord licks his lips, tries again, "You should come on me. I'm already a mess, darlin', might as well make me prettier."

"You're a menace," Caleb mutters, shaking his head, but he's already shifting his weight to his left hand braced next to Fjord's head; with his right, he reaches down, moaning brokenly as it closes around his cock. 

Fjord settles in to watch the show, bone deep satisfaction and weariness sliding through him. He continues to scratch through the fuzz on Caleb's chest, his navel, reaches his other hand up to cradle his husband's cheek. His hair is tumbling down around his face, sweat slicked at his temples, lips bitten and cheeks so flushed under his freckles that he looks feverish, and Fjord thinks, not for the first time, that he's never seen anyone so beautiful in his life, has to say it, "Fuckin' gorgeous, Cay, look at you." 

"Fjord, gods," gasped above him, and oh, yes, this is what he wanted to see. Caleb is on the edge, stroking himself hard and fast, eyes hazy as he stares down at Fjord, and the half orc lets out a satisfied rumble, reaches down between them to cup his balls, tugging and rolling them gently. 

Two more strokes and Caleb is coming with a loud cry, almost echoing in their room, eyes squeezing shut. Fjord strokes both hands over his sides, murmuring softly as he feels Caleb's come streaking against his stomach; his dick twitches with interest, but he's too spent to do anything more but enjoy his husband's pleasure as it is.

He sees Caleb's left arm begin to buckle, and Fjord curls his hands right around the other man's waist, ready to hold him close when he collapses down over him. Fjord is startled when the human moves back instead, shifting until he is once more kneeling between Fjord's spread legs, panting heavily as he tries to catch his breath. 

"Beautiful," Caleb says on an exhale, eyes dragging away from Fjord's, down his come covered chest and stomach, his soft cock, down to where his hole is still slick and gaping. He lets his gaze wander back up, and Fjord feels as though his cheek are on fire when his husband finally meets his gaze again, breathing still a little uneven as he repeats, "Beautiful."

A small part of him wants to shy away from the attention, but he preens under it instead, something warm curling in his chest as the intensity begins to bleed away a little, giving way to Caleb's unique mix of admiration and adoration. Fjord smiles, only a little bashful, and knocks his knee against Caleb's hip, eyes already drooping as he says, "We should get cleaned up before I pass out."

Caleb blinks once before letting out a bark of laughter, shaking his head and smoothing both hands over Fjord's thighs, eyes crinkling up as he murmurs, "Ja, alright."

Fjord knows it was his suggestion, but it doesn't keep him from grumbling in displeasure when Caleb clambers off the bed. 

"What?" His husband asks, raising an eyebrow as his mouth twitches in amusement, and Fjord grumbles again, making a shooing moment with his hand. Caleb laughs again, bright and unchecked, and he ducks down to press a kiss to Fjord's damp forehead before turning to walk into the bathroom. He comes back quickly with a damp rag, and it's a struggle to stay awake at this point; Fjord feels boneless, a satisfying ache between his legs, sleep a heavy weight creeping in through his limbs. Caleb leans a knee onto the mattress next to him, carefully wiping away their come from Fjord's chest, his stomach, the oil still leaking from his ass. 

Fjord has grown accustomed to letting himself be taken care of, but it still sends a giddy sort of happiness fluttering behind his breastbone, the way Caleb treats him as though he's something utterly precious to him. 

"You are, schatz," his husband murmurs, looking at him with soft devotion, and it takes Fjord a moment to realize he'd been speaking aloud. He should be embarrassed, maybe, but it's hard to be when Caleb takes one of his hands in his own, lifting it up to press a gentle kiss to his knuckles. Fjord sighs softly, feels the lips against his skin curve up a little before the human says, "I'll be right back. Maybe roll out of the wet spot, ja?"

"Take it back, you're awful," Fjord murmurs with no real bite, and his husband just laughs at him as he heads back to their adjoining bathroom. Fjord summons the last of his energy to scoot over, rolling onto his side to put his back at the wall as he waits for Caleb to join him. The human is back in a matter of seconds, watching him with a fond smile as he walks over to the bed, crawling on and settling in against Fjord, chest to chest as he brushes a kiss to the edge of the larger man's jaw. 

"Feeling alright?" He asks softly, and Fjord just hums in answer, tilting his head down to press a kiss against Caleb's temple as he drapes his arm over the other man, tugging him in impossibly closer. Caleb laughs quietly, one hand coming up to clasp the back of Fjord's neck, thumb rubbing gentle circles against his skin. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Yeah," Fjord manages to murmur, eyes sliding shut, and Caleb sighs contentedly, body melting into his. 

"Being this cute won't get you out of changing the sheets in the morning," and Fjord can't help the laugh that rolls out of him, slow and easy. Caleb shifts, and he feels a smile pressed against his collarbone, tucks his chin over his husband's head.

"Whatever you say, dear," and if Caleb answers he does not hear it, consciousness rapidly slipping through his grasp. Caleb squeezes the back of his neck, and then Fjord is gone, warm and content as he drifts off to sleep. 

He does not dream. 

**Author's Note:**

> Well. There's uh, there's that. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! I hope that you enjoyed it as much as I did, even as flustered as I got writing it. I love Fjord and Caleb so much, and I couldn't get the idea out of my head so I'm glad I finally got it all down.
> 
> Title is from "Collar Full" by Panic! at the Disco, because it came on while I was writing the line sure seemed to fit ;) 
> 
> Thank you again for reading! You can find me over at [tumblr](https://nevershootamockingbird.tumblr.com) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/daleytwin1) if you feel like yelling with me about these lovely characters (or anything else, really).


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